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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28989285">Boiling Point</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mendoza/pseuds/mendoza'>mendoza</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All For The Game - Nora Sakavic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Chefs, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Cook off, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pining, Slow Burn, Smoking, and cannibalism, chef!au, everyone takes cooking too seriously, neil lives on toast, no mafia just murder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:54:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,938</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28989285</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mendoza/pseuds/mendoza</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>"Neil fell in line behind him without thinking. His body had made the decision for him, and his body wanted to follow Andrew."</b>
</p>
<p>When Neil gets the opportunity to work in the Court's kitchen with the infamous Kevin Day, there is no way he can say no. Though one of his co-workers in particular seems to have it out for him, Neil is in heaven. But nothing good ever lasts and soon Neil's past begins to catch up with him.</p>
<p>Or the foxes are chefs at a wannabe Michelin restaurant and Andrew is obsessed with Neil's desserts ;)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Boiling Point</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Did anyone ask for this? No.<br/>But u can all be thankful I did not make this the ratatouille au my brain begged me for</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p></p>
  <div class="chapter">
    <p></p>
    <div class="userstuff module">
      <p>Neil’s knife hit the board in rapid succession. The monotonous motion was so familiar to his body, he longed to close his eyes and enjoy the thrumming running up his arms. Sleep had not come easy last night. But he couldn’t afford a slip up, couldn’t afford to lose this job. Junior chef at the Rose and Gardens was as close to his dream as he’d come and as close he’d ever be, if he didn’t want to be noticed.</p>
      <p>“Neil?” Addie, Neil’s co-worker popped her head into the kitchen. “Some customer wants to talk to you.”</p>
      <p>“Good or bad?”</p>
      <p>She threw a look back over her shoulder and considered his question for a moment. “Good, I think? But prepare for the worst.”</p>
      <p>With a sigh, Neil dried his hands on the towel tied to the apron strings around his waist. If he didn’t have to deal with customers, being a low-level pâtissier would’ve been too good to be true. He got to transform dough into buttery, crisp layers, whip up cream and if they were short on staff they even let him near the madeleines. Though desserts had never been his own forte, it had been the only opening at the time, and Neil had quickly gotten used to the role. Anything was better than the greasy burger-look-a-likes he’d had to make previously. </p>
      <p>“Lead the way,” Neil said and fell in line behind Addie as she beelined them to a table at the very back, as far away from the floor to ceiling windows as possible. </p>
      <p>Neil froze as soon as he saw who was seated there. <em>Kevin Day</em>. Suddenly he was surrounded by the faint smell of lemon-scented cleaning products, in the back of a kitchen he hadn’t seen in a long long time. He was watching Kevin and Riko from his spot at the bar, five years old and already handling knives better than the adults - well, better than all but one.</p>
      <p>Neil forced himself to continue walking. The chance he’d be recognised was slim he told himself. He’d hidden both his natural hair and eye colour, his voice was deeper and his name was different. There was nothing for Kevin’s memory to latch on to.</p>
      <p>Yet, Neil’s hands were still shaking by the time he’d reached their table. Only now did he register the older man sitting next to the legendary chef. He had a rugged look to him, as if the world had chewed and spit him out a couple times. Neil knew the feeling.</p>
      <p>“Can I help you?” Neil put on his best customer service voice but it must’ve still been too sharp, if the sound of Addie’s fading steps was anything to go by. He couldn’t blame her. </p>
      <p>“Compliments to the chef,” Kevin said, a half-eaten plate of scrambled eggs and an untouched tiramisu in front of him.</p>
      <p>Neil’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t make the mains, you’ll want to speak to Sade for that.”</p>
      <p>“It’s my compliments, really,” the guy to Kevin’s right chimed in. His plate was empty at least. “Wymack.” He held out a hand. Neil watched it. Everything in his body told him to run, yet his feet were rooted to the ground.</p>
      <p>Wymack dropped his hand unceremoniously. “Your stuff is really good, the reviews might’ve been underselling you.”</p>
      <p>“Reviews?”</p>
      <p>Wymack threw a quick look at Kevin, who merely shrugged, before he turned back to Neil. “You haven’t read the latest piece in Bon Appétit? Three up-and-coming restaurants you need to try before the tourists find them?”</p>
      <p>“I don’t pay much attention to the media. Most of the time they’re full of shit.”</p>
      <p>Kevin let out a laugh, but Wymack just stared at him as if idiocy had personified in front of him.</p>
      <p>“We’ve got an open spot,” Kevin said.</p>
      <p>“Oh,” Neil let out a low breath of relief. “Let me get Sade for you then.”</p>
      <p>“Forget Sade,” Wymack rubbed a hand over his face. Neil wondered if this was one of those times the world was chewing him up. “We’re here for you, Neil.”</p>
      <p>“For me?”</p>
      <p>“‘But don’t leave without trying the desserts. You won’t find better mousse au chocolat anywhere in New York, it’s sin on a plate. Thank me later.’ That’s only one of the excerpts about you.”</p>
      <p>“They’re not my recipes,” Neil protested weakly. “I just added my own spin on it.”</p>
      <p>“Christ, boy,” Wymack cursed under his breath. “You’re good at cooking and we need someone good. We’re offering you a spot at The Court.”</p>
      <p>Neil was still trying to formulate a response when his eyes fell on a third set of cutlery on the table. A plate of what must’ve been mousse au chocolat was now only occupied by a small silver spoon. He looked back at Wymack and suddenly his weathered face only said one thing: cop.</p>
      <p>Kevin had talked and now they were here to question him. It was the only possible explanation. They were here to arrest him.</p>
      <p>So Neil did what Neil did best: he ran.</p>
      <p>He had squeezed between tables, ran through the kitchen and past the storage before his brain even fully registered what he was doing. His hands locked on the backdoor’s metal bar and he pushed it open with a low grunt, an early, dirty summer breeze drifting past him. </p>
      <p>Against his better instincts, Neil looked over his shoulder. Kevin was shouldering his way past chefs and Neil didn't think, his legs carried him forward of their own accord.</p>
      <p>Then they gave out under him. A radiating pain spread out from his stomach as Neil threw his hands over his head. He wanted to curse, but he was Neil and Neil had never heard a worse swear word than crikey. </p>
      <p>“Did you really think you could run?”</p>
      <p>Slowly, Neil lifted his head, hands braced on the crusty pavement. Even from the floor the boy in front of him looked tiny. He was a monochrome figure set against a monochrome city. White hair, black clothes, lips stretched over white teeth - the concept of a smile without any of the meaning. In his hand was a wooden spoon, the thin end still pointed at Neil.</p>
      <p>“Next time,” Neil said as he rose to his knees. “Just trip a guy. Equally effective, but without the risk of impaling someone.”</p>
      <p>“Where would be the fun in that?”</p>
      <p>“Andrew,” Kevin’s accusatory voice rang out behind Neil. “What did you do to him?” There was an element to it that Neil couldn’t quite place, akin to an accent but less defined.</p>
      <p>Andrew shrugged.</p>
      <p>“I’m fine,” Neil said. He dusted his hands off and stood up carefully, trying not to wince. He’d grown too soft if a hit like that hurt him.</p>
      <p>“Boys,” Wymack appeared next to Neil, his breath heavy. “I thought we’d agree to play nice.”</p>
      <p>“I didn’t agree to anything,” Andrew said.</p>
      <p>Wymack sighed and turned to Neil, not bothering to argue with Andrew. It was a curious dynamic and Neil wondered what Andrew had on his manager.</p>
      <p>“Look, you’re good, and our current pastry chef just quit-</p>
      <p>“He died,” Andrew chimned in. “Can’t say it’s much of a loss.”</p>
      <p>“He’d have quit soon anyway,” Kevin said. “He skipped more times than he showed and his tarts were horrendous.”</p>
      <p>“I don’t want the job.” Neil directed his words at Andrew. His eyes flicked over Neil’s shoulder so quick, Neil almost didn’t catch the gesture. But his mother had trained him too well in reading people, it was second nature by now. After all it was easier to defend yourself if you knew the attack was coming. And people’s bodies had a way of betraying their inner workings.</p>
      <p>“Unfortunately, no one asked you.” Andrew’s lips stretched into a grin. “But by all means stay here, wallow in your self-pity and keep making mediocre dishes for tourists who can’t afford any better. See if I care.”</p>
      <p>“Think about our offer, at least,” Wymack said, a poor attempt at rescuing the conversation.</p>
      <p>Neil turned around to Kevin, green eyes meeting his own and for a second Neil was sucked back to a time when they were half their height and arguing about the pronunciation of basil.</p>
      <p>Growing up he’d catch glimpses of the master chef prodigy in newspapers and tv segments. Oh, how Neil had longed for his presence. How he’d longed for the careful, measured skill of preparing a meal. How he’d longed for the escape.</p>
      <p>And now it was standing right in front of him. </p>
      <p>“I’m not good enough,” he said.</p>
      <p>“Not yet,” Kevin agreed. “But you could be.” Neil’s chest warmed at the words, but something was nagging at him.</p>
      <p>“You didn’t even taste my cooking.” </p>
      <p>Kevin flinched.</p>
      <p>“I did,” Andrew said. His arms were crossed over his chest - the wooden spoon nowhere to be seen. Somehow his weight was enough to keep the backdoor open, he even had one leg propped against it. How could something so tiny hold so much weight?</p>
      <p>"You tasted my mousse?"</p>
      <p>“What’s going on in here?” Sarah, Neil’s manager, filled the doorframe to the kitchen behind them. Her hair was pulled back so tightly, she had to be giving herself a migraine. “Neil, work isn’t the time to hang out with your friends, I didn’t think I’d have to explain that. And god, could you please shut the door on your way out, it smells like trash.”</p>
      <p>Andrew’s jaw clenched but all he said was, “Let’s go.”</p>
      <p>Neil fell in line behind him without thinking. His body had made the decision for him, and his body wanted to follow Andrew.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>Andrew clicked his car keys and a black Maserati across the street answered. Behind them Sarah was shouting for Neil to come back. None of them paid her any attention.</p>
      <p>“I’ll catch you back at Court. Can I trust you to keep him alive until then?”</p>
      <p>“Don’t worry, Coach. I won’t hurt him,” Andrew said, “too badly.”</p>
      <p>Wymack mumbled something under his breath and Neil thought he caught the words “goddamn drink”. They watched as he lifted a hand in goodbye and walked away from them, towards the subway station Neil exited every morning. He was all too happy to escape the crowd now, though he was still surrounded by potential threats. </p>
      <p>Kevin slid into the passenger seat with an ease that only came through familiarity. He wondered how Andrew had gained his trust, but Neil knew better than to voice his curiosity.</p>
      <p>On his way around the car, Andrew came to a stop in front of Neil. He parted his lips as if he was going to say something but settled for a grin. A shiver ran down Neil’s spine. </p>
      <p>He got in the backseat anyway. His self-preservation had clearly taken some damage over the last few months. His mother would never have allowed him to even imagine stepping within fifty feet of Kevin Day.</p>
      <p>Andrew entered last. His fingers curled around the wheel with reverence, a thumb stroking absently over the leather.</p>
      <p>Neil kept his eyes on Andrew in the rearview mirror but the other boy took off without sparing him a glance. For some reason disappointment spread out in Neil’s gut.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>The Court was an unassuming building around the corner of 6th Avenue and 56th Street. Grey panelling surrounded the two arch-shaped windows. The only spot of colour was a life-sized fox paw in the bottom left corner of the door. All in all, it looked like any other restaurant Neil wouldn’t have paid two seconds of attention to.</p>
      <p>“Wait until you see the inside,” Kevin said, his voice filled with awe. Neil caught Andrew’s eye roll in the mirror as the latter parked the car right in front of the restaurant.</p>
      <p>“It says no parking.” Neil pointed at the sign fixed to a tree on the sidewalk.</p>
      <p>“Who do you think put it up?” Andrew strode past him, Kevin on his heels. There was no one left to hear Neil’s small laugh.</p>
      <p>As he stepped closer, Neil could see a handful of people sitting by the windows but the restaurant seemed to get rapidly darker towards the back. For all his research on Kevin, he had never bothered to look at his place of work.</p>
      <p>Andrew led them to a backdoor without a doorknob. He rapped his knuckles twice in quick succession before a tall man opened. His black curls were spiked upwards, giving him at least two additional inches.</p>
      <p>“You must be Neil,” the stranger burst out. “Come in, come in. I’m Matt, the Entree Chef. Ever craving a salad or soup, I’ll be your guy.”</p>
      <p>Neil stepped inside, startled at Matt’s enthusiasm, a stark contrast to the two guys mumbling behind him. </p>
      <p>The receiving area they were standing in opened up to a world made out of steel, an island with several hobs at the horizon. Neil closed his gaping mouth, it was beautiful.</p>
      <p>“There are bathrooms and lockers here,” Matt pointed at two doors to their right. “Showers too, if you need them. All our storage is here,” he lifted his thumb at the metal doors on the opposite wall. “And then we have the stations.” Matt opened his arms wide to encompass the room. Immediately, a girl joined his side.</p>
      <p>“Hi Neil, I’m Dan, Head Chef of these children.” She reached out her hand. Neil shook it, amazed at the way she carried herself. Smooth confidence radiated through her body, but her eyes were clear, assessing him as much as he was her.</p>
      <p>Someone at the other shouted her name and Dan dropped her smile into an apology. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go, we’re kind of short on people here, it’s always a mess. We’ll go through everything with you tomorrow, alright?” She didn’t give Neil a chance to answer before she rushed off.  </p>
      <p>“Yeah, probably not the best time to introduce you to everyone, the lunch rush is just wrapping up.” Matt rubbed a hand over his neck and gave Neil an apologetic smile.</p>
      <p>Neil wanted to offer to work immediately but that was not who <em>Neil</em> was. So he said, “That’s fine,” and ignored the itch in his fingers.</p>
      <p>A tall, dark skinned guy popped his head out of a storage room to their left and let out a theatrical gasp. Neil’s head snapped around.</p>
      <p>“You didn’t tell me the newbie was -” The stranger stepped around the door and let his eyes drift from the tips of Neil’s hair to his feet and back up again. “I’d have put on eyeliner at least.”</p>
      <p>“Not worth the try, Nicky,” Andrew said. Nicky tilted his head at him but didn’t reply.</p>
      <p>“Why would you put on eyeliner to work? Doesn’t it come off in the heat?”</p>
      <p>“It’s called fashion. Don’t worry I’ll teach you.” Nicky winked at him, ignoring Andrew’s stare. Somehow that only threw up more questions. Nicky must’ve seen them written on his face because he continued. “The way someone dresses can reveal so much about a person. Dressed like that, I’d say you live about two hours outside the city. The peer pressure hasn’t rubbed off on you.”</p>
      <p>Andrew walked past Nicky to one of metal countertops behind Neil and hopped up. Neil didn’t like not having him in his sight, didn’t trust him not to whip out another spoon and stab his back.</p>
      <p>But turning around would feel like giving in, so instead Neil said, “I live behind Queens.”</p>
      <p>Kevin’s eyes widened. “<em>Behind</em> Queens? How long do you commute?”</p>
      <p>“If I run, it’s an hour and a half.” He shrugged and took a step back, just far enough to get Andrew back into his line of vision.</p>
      <p>Nicky let out a laugh, but no one joined in. “Wait, you’re serious?”</p>
      <p>“He tried to run from us at the restaurant.” Andrew dipped his finger into some sort of chocolate sauce a blonde haired girl had just prepared. His tongue appeared as quickly as it hid again.</p>
      <p>“I’d have succeeded if someone hadn’t stabbed me with a spoon.”</p>
      <p>“Oh Andrew,” Nicky sighed and turned to Neil. “I’ll happily take a look at it for you later.” A corner of Nicky’s lips quirked up.</p>
      <p>Neil froze, thinking of the scars running across every inch of his skin. The stories hidden beneath them. “No, no. It’s fine, I’m fine.”</p>
      <p>Luckily Kevin saved him. “We’re moving you.”<br/>“He can move in with us!” Nicky clapped his hands, practically glowing with excitement.</p>
      <p>“No.” It was the first word Andrew had uttered that Neil actually found himself in agreement with.</p>
      <p>“My place is fine.” He couldn’t live with others, couldn’t trust others to live with him.<br/>“You don’t understand,” Kevin said, turning his full attention to Neil. “This isn’t a nine to five. Every waking moment, you’ll be here. If you ever want to be decent, you’ll spend more time in this kitchen than anywhere else. If you want to be great, there is no free time, there’ll be sleep and there’ll be this. You will be living in the cracks of these walls.”</p>
      <p>Neil wanted to argue but Kevin had a point. His days in the city were already limited - the mass anonymity only kept one hidden for so long - he had to make the best out of it. He had to do this whole-heartedly or not at all. And the latter wasn’t an option.</p>
      <p>“Okay.” Neil exhaled the words along with his resolve.</p>
      <p>Andrew, who had watched the conversation with interest, jumped off the counter, swinging his keys around his finger.</p>
      <p>“Now?” Neil heard his pulse in his ears. They couldn’t mean to move him now.</p>
      <p>“Yes, I’ll make arrangements for you in the car.” Kevin walked out of the kitchen, Neil right on his heels.</p>
      <p>“I can just bring it all in tomorrow.”</p>
      <p>“And loose hours of training to you moving in? Tomorrow is Saturday, we’ll need every second we can get to make you passable before the lunch rush.”</p>
      <p>Arguing with Kevin Day was a lost cause. Neil settled into his spot on the backseat only a second before Andrew wove them into traffic, the acceleration pressing Neil deeper into the cushions.</p>
      <p>He closed his eyes, silently counting to ten. His duffel was packed - he’d only dared to take out a few clothes, nothing he couldn’t live without. He’d have preferred to keep it on him at all times, but Sarah had given him a speech the first time she spotted him with it. Neil hadn’t been listening, but it was enough to make him leave it at his apartment in the future.</p>
      <p>In his mind, Neil walked every inch of the space. The soft murmur of Kevin’s voice r. Satisfied when his mental walk turned up with nothing incriminating laying around, he opened his eyes again. Andrew’s gaze bore into him through the mirror’s reflection. Neil couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow.</p>
      <p>“Address?” Andrew asked.</p>
      <p>The words clung to Neil’s lips for a moment before he let them pass. It had been a long time since he had given someone else his address, most of his years were spent not having one in the first place.</p>
      <p>Andrew turned back to the road with a bored expression. Kevin was still on the phone, so Neil turned his eyes out of the window and allowed himself to dream, for one small moment, of the sparkling steal counters.</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>“You’re kidding me,” Kevin said as they stepped into Neil’s apartment.</p>
      <p>Neil didn’t understand what would be funny about his apartment. There was the kitchen to their right with nothing on the counter but a loaf of bread. He’d placed a single mattress below the rooms only two windows. It gave him a decent view of the door but would also give him an advantage over anyone trying to enter via the fire escape. A few clothes and his duffel covered the floor, right next to a small door leading to the bathroom. All in all, it was pretty good.</p>
      <p>“How long have you lived here?” Kevin turned to him.</p>
      <p>“A few months,” Neil shrugged and walked over to his belongings. He crouched down and started packing his clothes, careful to hide the duffel’s other contents from Andrew’s watchful eyes.</p>
      <p>His ears dimly registered the sound of the fridge door opening before Kevin let out a low, appalled gasp. “What do you live on?”</p>
      <p>“Sandwiches.” Neil straightened, his bag ready in hand.</p>
      <p>“Sandwiches,” Kevin repeated. Neil didn’t understand why it warranted to be repeated.</p>
      <p>Andrew laughed. “Oh you’re going to be fun.”</p>
      <p>Kevin sighed and closed the empty fridge. “At least we’ll be back in time to serve dinner.”</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p>Unsurprisingly, Kevin’s apartment was on the Upper East Side, a structure competing with its neighbours. The view from the top had to be extraordinary.</p>
      <p>They reached his place just as the sun had set. Somehow the evening sky made Andrew seem even... <em>less</em>, his edges blurring with the darkness around them. Neil wouldn’t have been surprised if his hand went right through the other boy if they were to touch. </p>
      <p>“Are you coming?” Kevin stood in the entrance of the complex, holding open a door made out of the same glass like the entirety of the rest of the building.</p>
      <p>Neil followed. The entrance hall was massive, a long reception desk sat to the left opposite not one but three elevators. Andrew was already standing there talking to the white woman behind it.</p>
      <p>“How much do we make?” Neil asked. There was no way a simple chef’s salary would cover a building like this and for the first time Neil worried what exactly he’d gotten himself into.</p>
      <p>Kevin laughed and brushed him off. “I invested in a few of these a while ago, don’t worry about it.”</p>
      <p>The woman’s gaze caught on Neil and studied him for a long moment before she said something else to Andrew. He smiled in response, flashing his teeth in a way that Neil had learnt couldn’t mean anything good.</p>
      <p>“Is everything alright here?” Kevin settled to Andrew’s left, Neil took his other side.</p>
      <p>“We’ll need to see some ID and proof of income.”</p>
      <p>“I’m Kevin Day, 2413. It’s my name on the contract, and you know my funds are sufficient.”</p>
      <p>Neil put his driver’s license on the counter without a second thought. The woman lifted it between two fingers and took a long look at it before she slid it back to him. “I’ll let it slide this time, but only because it’s you.” She smiled at Kevin. He merely nodded.</p>
      <p>Neil pocketed his ID under Andrew’s gaze, along with the keycard the receptionist handed him.</p>
      <p>Neil’s stomach dropped as the elevator sent them up all the way to the 24th floor. Too high to jump from should he need to escape. Though it’d still be preferable than ending up in his father’s hands again.</p>
      <p>Kevin led them around a corner and a few doors down the carpeted hallway before he stopped in front of a door with a gold-plated 2403 sign.</p>
      <p>“We’re a few doors down that way.” He pointed further down the hallway. “You’ll get the evening off, but we’ll stop by early tomorrow morning, so be ready.”</p>
      <p>Andrew put two fingers to his brow in a mocking salute before they left Neil alone in front of his new place.</p>
      <p>Neil hitched his duffel higher on his shoulders. It was not too late to run away. On his mother’s list was a contact in New York city who could make him into someone new. But the thought of the Court’s kitchen alone was enough for Neil to exhale and slide his card into the lock. </p>
      <p>He could always run tomorrow.</p>
    </div>
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  <div class="end notes module">
    <p> </p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yay, you made it! Stick around for more cooking puns and inevitable innuendos<br/>Next chapter will probably be Andrew POV, let’s hope I do him justice.</p>
<p>Also, I know this chapter pretty similar to canon, but this story will only follow canon v loosely; that being said still general content warnings for violence and past abuse. Will do my best to put them on the beginning of each chapter but pls let me know if I miss any</p></blockquote></div></div>
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